


Inside Your Skin

by implicated2



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, D/s, Established Relationship, F/F, Guro, pimples
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/implicated2/pseuds/implicated2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Hey, do you like zits?”</em>
</p>
<p>A little fic about popping zits for the Kink Bingo square <strong>guro</strong>. Written as part of the Ten in Ten Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside Your Skin

“Hey, do you like zits?”

“Do I _like zits._ ” They're sitting in Donna's favorite position, Donna on her leather sofa, April on the floor between her knees.

“Yeah. Like popping them.” April leans her head on Donna's thigh to look up at her.

“Okay,” Donna says, “one, I don't get zits. Two, hell, no.” And if the true answer is, yeah, sometimes, April doesn't need to know that.

“I've got a really juicy one on my back,” April says. “You could pop it.”

“I _could_ do whatever I want,” Donna answers. Her hands are resting on April's shoulders, and she brings one up to April's throat to emphasize her point, rests it under her chin with just a little pressure. “Or did you mean you _want_ me to pop it?”

Even just starting to drop into subspace makes April's eyes get huge. “Yeah,” she says, and Donna can feel April's throat move against her hand. “I want you to pop my zit.”

Donna lifts her hand, bringing it down to rest on April's collarbone, letting her fingers drift just below the neckline of April's shirt. She likes to give April what she wants, at a price. “If I pop your zit,” Donna says, reaching into April's bra and running her hands roughly around inside until she can hear April breathe faster, “you have to eat whatever comes out of it.”

“Ew,” April says. Donna pinches a fold of skin, just outside April's nipple, between her fingers, and holds it until April starts to whimper. “That is seriously gross,” she says, when Donna lets go.

Donna laughs. “That sounds like yes.”

“Yeah, okay,” April says. “But if I eat it, you have to kiss me.”

There are a lot of ways Donna touches April, but kissing isn't usually one of them. “I don't have to do anything,” Donna reminds April, her voice matter-of-fact.

“I want you to kiss me,” April corrects herself.

On the whole, Donna's not a very kissy person. Too much slobber, not enough suffering on her partner's behalf. Sometimes she makes exceptions, but April had better know by now that she doesn't make many. “I'll think about it,” Donna says. “Now get up here and take your shirt off.”

April lies on her stomach on the sofa, and Donna lies down on top of her, the curve of April's ass pressed up against the crotch of her jeans.

The zit is just above April's left shoulderblade, a round pink bump surrounded by a taut red ring. April feels for it with her right hand, making a face when the tip of her finger finds the raised skin. “See it?” she asks.

Donna reaches for the spot April's fingers are touching. “Move your hand,” Donna tells her.

It's been a year or two at least since Donna last popped a zit, and she forgot how many tries it could take. You have to pinch it at just the right angle, aim all that pus and dirt and fluid out through the right pore. Donna hits some kind of inner focus as she squeezes April's zit, first pressing at its sides, then digging her fingernails down until they leave dents in April's skin.

Maybe she also forgot how much _stuff_ could come out of one tiny red bump: when the zit pops, a snake of gritty, white pus shoots onto Donna's finger, and a drop of blood pools up into April's open pore.

“Okay, that is definitely gross,” Donna says, bringing her hand around to show April the mess on her finger. “Open up.”

April opens her mouth, and Donna wipes her finger against the wet surface of April's tongue. Donna doesn't think April can taste whatever came out of her, but she likes watching April struggle to close her mouth and keep it closed, to swish spit from cheek to cheek and finally swallow.

“Kiss me?” April asks, when she's done. Her eyes aren't quite as big as before, but the way she looks over her shoulder at Donna, biting at her bottom lip, is hard to resist.

“With that in your mouth?” If she did kiss April, Donna probably wouldn't actually notice anything, but still.

April shrugs. “Or you could just get me some water.”

Donna runs her finger over April's lip. “I could get you some water,” she repeats.

“I want some water,” April says, correcting herself. “Please.”

Donna lifts herself up from the sofa, stepping over April with one leg. “All right,” she says, rubbing April's back, near where the zit was. And then, because she can't help herself, she leans back down and gives April a quick kiss on the lips before she goes.


End file.
